real monsters is a modern fantasy roleplay primarily based on eojung academy, an international (gifted) boarding school, and the city it's based on: jeonju. we have no word count and no character limits.

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INFORMATION

TIMELINE

we are set in season 4: october - december 2014. please time stamp your threads accordingly.

When it all comes down will you say you did everything you could?
When it all comes down can you say that you never gave up?
Or were you standing by to watch it fall away?
Will you hold on, did you hold on or just let it fall?

november 3, 2014

A man who spends more time in the clouds than on the ground. A high school teacher once told his parents that, and no description could be truer still. Unfortunately for them, Tomoya showed little improvements over the years, despite their best efforts.

Perhaps he's lost too many things in one life. And the only solution that he could come up with was to be lost himself. Physically. And sometimes, this decision of his caused more harm than good, primarily to himself.

He had been in the process of making a flower delivery to one of the patient rooms when one of the nurses identified him as a frequenter to the psych ward. This was a misunderstanding in itself (was it his fault that he had a common face or that every street around here looked the same?), but before he was able to defend himself he was already tackled to the ground by an abnormally large nurse. And before he knew it, he was stripped from head to toe and clothed in a thin white robe.

But if there was something that Tomoya possessed, it was stealth. Or perhaps it was just pure luck that some other patient decided to nearly bite his own tongue off, but he was able to narrowly escape the shackles that have been prepared for him. Once out of eye sight, he opted to dislocate himself to the outer vicinity of the complex and onto a bench. "Nice day, isn't it?" he said mostly to himself, unaware of the male that seemed to be spooked out of his mind to suddenly find him sitting there.

Give me a new start Give me a new page You see I would have killed Romeo, and saved Juliet But I don't write stories, no, that time won't forget

november 3, 2014

I killed my first woman, today. Memories were funny things, conceptually speaking. No matter how detrimental the remembrance was, it always seemed to sneak up, to build up, finally hitting him like an oncoming train when he least expected it. Granted, death often came with his line of work, but he was certain that he'd never get over the first harrowing experience of seeing someone cold and unmoving on a surgical table.

What scared him even more, perhaps, is that with each time, it was affecting him less.

He'd woken up in a cold sweat from what he'd hoped would be a pleasant nap in the on-call room, plagued by the face of someone he could have saved who frequented him dreamspace. "Must be the lack of sleep.." was the only explanation he could offer himself, but the irony hit hard when he realized the small sliver of hope he had in rectifying the situation. He couldn't sleep, not like that- he needed some sort of stress relief.

After taking a shockingly cold shower, Elias towel dried his hair to the best of his ability and bundled up in a winter coat that had been purchased for him (he didn't have much style sense, honestly speaking) and braved the chilling winds of early winter. He thumbed over a borrowed cigarette that was floating in his pocket- a bad habit he swore never to adopt, but one that constantly tempted him. The pressure of the job was warrant enough to crave a puff of calming toxin, wasn't it? In the midst of his internal debate, a wandering voice snagged his attention and caught him completely off guard.

"Yah, you scared me- and I guess, if you're a masochist who's into braving this sort of weather in a hospital gown." Elias paused, drawing the carcinogen from his jacket pocket and twirling it between his fingers absent-mindedly. "Don't I know you from somewhere? You look familiar."